entry twenty-nine

Tuesday, April 22, 2025

    Taking a day off from work feels harder than showing up. The irony isn’t lost on me—how something meant for rest can feel like an extra burden. Preparing sub plans, organizing materials, anticipating potential crises takes so much time and energy that it hardly feels worth it. Lately, I’ve felt the toll creeping in—slow and relentless. The physical exhaustion, the mental heaviness, the ache in my bones that sleep no longer fixes. My body is trying to tell me something and I can’t keep ignoring it. I keep repeating to myself: Self-care is no longer optional.

    Sick days exist for a reason—and I’m sick. Not just in the way that a thermometer measures, but in the deeper, quieter ways. The kind that builds over time, that whispers warnings into my chest, my breath, my energy. I need to take the day. Not leave early - not "push through." Just take it. Take the day off. Go to the doctor. Rest without guilt. Something is shifting. My exhaustion isn’t just tired eyes or sore feet. It’s a kind of depletion that lives in my bones. My body aches in new ways—ways I can’t dismiss. I feel it in the shallow breath, the weight in my chest, the frayed edges of my patience. I am not okay. I can’t pour from an empty vessel. Taking a sick day isn’t about weakness or avoidance. It’s about preserving the part of me that still wants to give. If I don’t take that time now, I’ll have nothing left to give later. I won’t be able to be present for my students, their families, my staff, OR my own family—not fully at least. 

    Showing up halfway doesn’t serve anyone. My health has to come first. I have nothing left to prove. Just something to preserve—myself. what’s the point of being everything for everyone, if it means I become nothing to myself? I have always believed my role is to be the steady force for others, to fill in the gaps, to be the constant. But what happens when that foundation starts to crumble? I’ve learned the hard way that I cannot sustain a facade of strength if I ignore the cracks in my own well-being. Taking care of myself isn’t just necessary—it’s the most responsible choice I can make. For me. For them. For all of us.